Home and Hearth
by Cloud Awning
Summary: Balthier's days of adventure are over. Is he truly willing to give up the search for gold? One-shot, Humor/Family. Rated K.


**Title: Home and Hearth  
Genre: Family/Humor  
Rating: K**

Just a little one-piece I wrote after finally beating Final Fantasy XII last night! I hope you enjoy it. I simply had to do a little digging into the character of my favorite pirate.

Balthier muttered and stretched his arms, leaning back in the pilot's seat of the _Strahl._ What he wouldn't give for a good nap right about now. He never complained about his now five-year job as a cargo pilot, but his body certainly did. His forearms ached, his back smarted, and his eyes were tiring from the constant glare of the sun.

But he wouldn't have traded this for anything in the world.

The former self-proclaimed Sky Pirate grinned, thinking how wrong a statement that was and how, right now, he could think of four treasures he would have traded the _Strahl _for a million times over if the situation called for it.

One more trip to the port city at Balfonheim and then he could go home, perhaps for weeks. This was the only thought spurring him on now, and it was one he clung to. Vaan would have laughed at his sudden switch in priorities, but wasn't nine years after the war enough time to warrant a change? He was getting older, damn it, and if he wanted to be a homebody in his middle age….well, gods curse whoever tried to stop him.

Also, one could only spend so much time in the sky without being lonely. The pilot's seat felt wrong without Fran at his side, offering her quizzical but graceful brand of logic and reasoning, her weapon and her companionship.

Sometimes it was best that an adventure would end, but he felt a vague kind of bittersweet nostalgia for the days when it was the trio of Fran, Balthier, and the sky.

No matter. Quickly, he piloted his pride and joy _The Strahl_ (now getting old and far too close to retirement age for his liking), into the Balfonheim aerodrome, waiting as the workers took his cargo and gave him the go-clear.

The skies were clear and blue, the sun was glistening, but Balthier was glad to turn his back on it and fly towards home and hearth.

***

He exited the airship and walked through the city, with it's everyday mix of Viera and Hume, Bangaa and Nu Mou. Every race of every continent seemed to feel at home here. The scattered and the divided had a place in this mixing pot. Now that Ivalice was no longer a stew of Imperial and political discourse, the place felt airier. Art and culture and history was now allowed to flourish.

Balthier stopped when a stand caught his eye, and he looked over the wares, smiling. He knew somebody who would love those bracelets. He bartered with the reptilian Bangaa beside the cart, and they settled on a price after arguing lightly about it. When the seller asked him if he wanted the jewelry gift-wrapped, Balthier thought, then nodded.

He continued on with a brown package in his hand.

***

Home, at last! Balthier walked to the door and grinned, knowing what he would find if he looked to his right at the parlor window.

Three sets of long white bunny ears. Or rather the tips of them. Three little girls were hiding under the window. As he watched, the middle set rose up and he saw Nene's little face for one split second before she saw him, squealed, and hid again.

"He's here!" she hollered, and he heard the sound of pattering feet running.

The door flew open, and suddenly Balthier was overwhelmed in a flurry of limbs and ears and little Viera kisses. Six-year-old Nene got there first, and she was in his arms before he knew it,  
throwing her arms around his neck.

Autumn, who was the oldest and was eight, jumped excitedly despite herself. Seven-year-old Jan sucked her thumb and merely took a hold of Balthier's sleeve. He went inside like this, flanked by all three of his daughters. Nene was demanding to know what was in the package.

"Nothing for _you_," he said, raising his eyebrow.  
"You're lying," she decided.

Fran entered the living room, looking amused at the sight of the girls competing for Balthier's attention.

"Fran, help! I'm surrounded by females," he complained, but he was laughing.  
"It's no use," she told him, the barest of smiles flitting across her elf-like face.  
"Then, I surrender!" Balthier said, and leaned across the remaining space between them to place a chaste kiss on his wife's cheek.

Fran had switched her former black armor for something a little more practical and comfortable, and which, Balthier had been happy to note, covered quite a bit more skin as well. She wore a simple white dress, but brightly colored strings adorned where it laced at the top and back. Bright bracelets adorned her arms, and her white hair was brushed and had been pulled loosely into a rawhide band. Her ears were just as white and long as always.

Balthier collapsed on the couch, and the girls took that moment to pile on top of him, deciding that he was their captive and the sofa was his prison. Well, that was all right with him. Until he got jabbed in the stomach courtesy of Nene's knee as she rough-housed with her sisters.

"Hold it! I have a present for you," he tried to say, but he was out of breath. Autumn found the package and poked it, keeping it away from Nene who tried to grab it. Jan was the sweet one and merely sat by her papa and sucked her thumb.

She leaned over and pulled on his sleeve, getting his attention while her sisters played.

"What is it?" he asked, whispering, for Jan always whispered when she spoke.  
"A flower," she said. She handed it to him. A Galbanian Lily.  
"Thank you, sweetheart."  
Jan leaned on his shoulder.

It was here, in his home, that he realized all those bittersweet feelings he had while alone on the _Strahl_ were useless here. Balthier lightly twirled the flower between his fingers and took a glance over at Fran, who crossed her arms, and she put her head to the side, as if to say "What are you looking at?"

He shook his head and just smiled.

The two other girls had opened the package, and were squealing over the contents. Inside were three bracelets with charms on them to protect from certain magic spells.

"I'll take you out to the Westersands one of these days if your mother lets me," he promised them, showing them which bracelet protected against which spell. They divided the bracelets between them. Jan got the blue one. Autumn got the red one, and Nene favored the purple.

"The Giza plains are safer," Fran said.  
"Right you are, Fran," Balthier agreed. Then he said, "Who wants to hunt a Mark tomorrow?"

It was agreed upon that tomorrow would be a great day for hunting cactuars. While the girls were drawing up a bill, Fran sat down beside Balthier and told him Vaan had been by today inquiring about the _Strahl._

"Really, well that explains where the Lily came from," Balthier frowned slightly and looked at the flower he was still holding.  
"What did he want?"

"To know if he could borrow her," Fran shrugged. "I told him I'd ask you when you got home."

"She needs a few repairs," Balthier said, "But I think it'll manage if he doesn't strain her too much. I'll talk to him."

To be honest, he'd been thinking a lot lately about just giving Vaan the _Strahl._ He knew nobody but he would treat her with the respect she deserved, that old ship who had served them so well.

He didn't need her if he wasn't carrying cargo; he could find another job to do to make money - and maybe, just maybe, his old adventures were over. It was a sad thing to think about, but with Fran sitting beside him and his daughters to teach, he thought he could stand becoming one of those old coots who wore spectacles and went to bed reading.

Well, maybe he wasn't quite _there _yet.

But he wanted his daughters to know things about the world, and he wanted to be there to oversee their lessons. The _Strahl_ could have adventures without him.

Jan crawled into his lap and fell asleep, sucking her thumb again. Balthier looked at the flower, and thought about the treasures he once went after as a pirate, and suddenly, he didn't miss those days at all.

The bruises of the past were all healed by the present. That was all the treasure he needed.

****


End file.
